


Not as cold as the snow

by MarysseLalonde



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut, geralt is a softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22376716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarysseLalonde/pseuds/MarysseLalonde
Summary: Usually, he helped the Witcher to wash himself and then it was his turn. There were only a few times when the tub had enough size for both of them.This night was different, it was special. A rare quiet night when they can stay with the other.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 272





	Not as cold as the snow

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really know how this idea born. I was writing something angst because my mood, but I finally end to writing something cute. I'm happy with the results and I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> Please note English isn't my first language and maybe the text had some errors. Thanks to TanisVs for her help!
> 
> If you have any corrections or suggestion I'll be glad to hear it.

One more day, one more hunt, one more coin.

The room was no big deal. It had only a few pieces of furniture. One table with a chair and one bed, maybe not sufficient for both of them, but at least they had a fireplace. They hadn’t planned the stop, Geralt wanted to collect his payment and camp far away from the village. Far away from the people who despised him when wasn't necessary to hunt a monster. Jaskier had protested.  
Of course he had protested!

The winter had arrived already, and sleep outdoors wasn't easy for someone who wasn't a Witcher, like Jaskier. They had made a great number of coins and the money lets them stay away from the cold, inside an inn. Jaskier had thought he would need to argue more, but the first snowfall made Geralt take the decision for both of them, guiding Roach into the stables.

They were lucky to find a free room. Many travelers had decided to stay in the village, taking refuge in the inn close ones. They won’t enter into the forest while it was still snowing, but that means less rooms were free. Only one inn had some vacancies, and Jaskier was proud to say how the price of the room was cheaper after his brilliant performance.

The Witcher was staying away, drinking ale in a corner, completely alone, as he liked to be. But he not missed an eye on the bard. Jaskier came to his table sometimes, he stole his beer and came back to his songs. Geralt didn't protest, but all the times a little grunt escaped from his throat. He only left his site when one of the barmaids told him his bath was ready. The Witcher got up and started to walk to their room. He said nothing, letting the bard to continue with his performance alone.  
It took Jaskier several more songs before the night was over. He went upstairs, direct to the room only with his lute and a bag full of coins. When he entered the room, he was greeted by Geralt’s vision in the bathtub, a vision well known to him. With a smile in his lips, Jaskier closed the door, leaving his precious lute on the bed with the bag.

“Do you need some help?” Jaskier asked while he approached the tub. His fingers opened the buttons of his jacket, one by one. The room was not too warm for undress, but helping Geralt always involved wetting his clothes. As usual, Geralt’s answer was a grumble. Jaskier rolled up his sleeves, set the chair near Geralt's head and sat down. “I think you’ll be happy to know how many coins are in our bag. It has increased pleasantly this night.” He sunk his fingers in Geralt’s hair, making himself sure he was disentangling it properly.

“They didn’t run away after I left?” Geralt's voice was deep, relaxed. After years of traveling together, Jaskier could tell there was mockery in his voice. Geralt always found amusing making fun of the bard’s sing, as usual.

“Pretty funny,” Jaskier said. Slowly, the bard bent over Geralt's back, leaving a soft kiss in his shoulder. “Remember who is paying for your warm bath, Witcher”.  
“I thought I was paying for my own bath?” Maybe his answer was quick, but there wasn't malice in his voice. That was only a game between them. That was what they had: monsters' hunting, play music in the inns and travel together. They had done that for years and only little things had changed. “The water is still warm,” Geralt said. “Come in, bard”. Jaskier got up without words. Usually, he helped the Witcher to wash himself and then it was his turn. There were only a few times when the tub had enough size for both of them. Many times it was insufficient even for Geralt, who needed to fold his legs to enter the tub.

Jaskier didn't pretend to miss his opportunity. He took his boots off while he was still sitting, and after that, he got up and started to undress under the watchful eyes of his Witcher. As soon as his pants were out of the way, he felt one hand caressing his thigh gently. Only an innocent touch, with no hidden intentions.  
"Do you like what you see, Witcher?” He asked while he was letting his last piece of clothing fell to the floor. At that moment Jaskier didn't want to worry about expensive clothes, he only wanted to catch Geralt’s look.

“Come in now or don’t complain later if the water is too cold for you,” His answer wasn't the most romantic one, but Geralt wouldn't do that anyway. The Witcher was a man of action, not words. 

Geralt extended his hand to the bard until Jaskier had entered the tub safely. Once inside, Jaskier settled himself between Geralt's legs, feeling the water licking his skin. Jaskier leaned against Geralt, enjoying the warmth of his skin. It didn't take long for Geralt to encircle Jaskier's waist with his arms, his lips brushing the bard’s neck. Under the water, Jaskier’s hands found Geralt’s, and it drew circles over them with his thumbs.

The situation was new to them, but it seemed to Jaskier that they had been like that all their lives. Sometimes he couldn't believe that was happening. He never thought he would have bravery enough to admit to Geralt his true feelings, but much less that Geralt didn't run away from him.

Probably the circumstances were the key.

At that moment Jaskier had been seriously injured and they thought he’ll not survive. The imminent end caused their actions. Jaskier finally confessed. But surprisingly, the Witcher answer back. The bard never had seen Geralt as desperate as at that moment. Finally, everything had ended well, but for a few days, it had been uncomfortable for them. Only when they had finished exploring his new situation everything had been better.

Jaskier wasn’t sure when he started to hum, but he founded himself with his eyes closed and his head resting on Geralt’s shoulder.   
Enjoying the moment.

“It’s a new song?” Geralt asked, grabbing a rag and rubbed it with the soap. With all the care he had, he passed the fabric on the bard’ skin, cleaning the dirtiness that days on the path had been embedded in his skin. Jaskier was used to help Geralt in his clean routine, but that he was helping him was still new for him.  
“Maybe,” he answered, letting the Witcher clean his arms. “It’s about a Witcher who the people think it's colder than the snow, but he isn’t. He’s caring and careful when you take away the armor of his heart. What do you think?” A smile spread on his lips. It was a lie, but most of his repertory was actually about Geralt. One more it would not make any difference.

Jaskier wanted everyone to see Geralt as he did, not like the Butcher of Blaviken, not like the foolish lie that the popular culture said about witchers. Jaskier wanted that people could see Geralt like he did: a good and soft man.

“The credibility of your histories has a limit. You're not that good liar,“ When Geralt stopped talking, Jaskier’s hit him on the arm, offended for the comment, but his blow lacked force and his laugh was not made to beg. Geralt saw how he moved in the bath, carefully maneuvering in the small space to not to fall. When Jaskier sat astride on his thighs, the bard's arms encircled his neck and Geralt let his hands stay in his waist.

“The most unlikely stories are usually true.”

They weren’t interested in continuing the conversation or in the fact that the water had lost almost all its heat. Geralt's lips found Jaskier’s and let them express in actions all that he couldn't express with words. Jaskier would scream his love for the Witcher loudly. On the other hand, Geralt would rip his own heart out of his chest if Jaskier asked him to do it, only to show him how much he loved the bard.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is all. Definitely, I fall in love with these two dorks  
> I hope you like it! See you soon!


End file.
